ODDITIES AT SMITH'S COVE BEACH

Smith's Cove Beach, which is visible from out house at low tide, is a public beach. What does this mean? It means that anyone can wander down on the beach and enjoy the invigorate salty air, the quickening breezes that whiffle in through the Digby Gut, and the bright cerulean sky.

That's on a good day. There are times when the beach is under siege – pounding surf sucking the pebbles down into the depths of the sea, gouging and reshaping the beach into a newer, more contemporary form.

Usually these rather inclement days insist that no-one come down to watch Neptune's handiwork. We may go down to the sea again later, when the sculpting is finshed, but not when the master of the deep is at work.

 

Most of the time, this is a tame beach, generally maintaining its shape and form for weeks at a time.

The tide comes in and goes out at regular intervals, and leaves behind small treasures for us.

There is always a good chance of finding pieces of coloured and well worn glass which are sometimes referred to as 'mermaid's tears'. I'm not sure why they have that moniker; it is quite suitable for the clear and blue glass, but I'm not sure how it applies to the brown, green or pink glass.

There are an assortment of North Atlantic shells, with mussels predominating, various seaweeds, plenty of pebbles and cobbles, occasionally crab shells or lobster claws.

From time to time odd objects turn up on our beach. Most beaches have this trait, of course, and that's what makes beach-combing such an endearing and enduring pastime. On a recent saunter along the beach, we found the following items: a single running shoe,

a half-head of cabbage,

and a decent shovel.

We came home with the shovel, but the other items were left to fend for themselves. Doubtless they continued their travels on the next tide.

Public beaches may have a rather seedy reputation in many places, but our little beach is far from seedy. It is interesting, intriguing, physically and mentally refreshing, and it has benches where we can rest awhile an djust imbibe in the beauty of nature ... just what a good beach should be.
 

FOGGY VISTAS OF THE ANNAPOLIS BASIN

Smith's Cove is a village on the shores of the Annapolis Basin,  a large salt-water bay. From almost anywhere in the village we can see the Digby Gut, (St George's Strait)  the rough water opening from the Annapolis Basin to the Bay of Fundy, the larger body of water beyond us. The Bay of Fundy opens to the Atlantic Ocean.

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Our tiny house sits perched on the side of one of the hills in Smith's Cove. We overlook the Annapolis Basin. From this vantage point, we can watch the ever-changing skyscape, playing our own personal light show of magical colours and shifting shadows.This is most mysterious, and enticing, when it is foggy.

For the past couple of days the Annapolis Basin has been intermittently covered with a blanket of fog. It waxes and wanes as the waves and trees continually toss it back from themselves, 

much as we toss the coverlets off the bed and then pull them back up again.

Carl Sandberg, an American poet, likened fog to cats:

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

What I like is the swirling, cloudy atmosphere with clouds seemingly rising in vertical pipes, while others lie horizontally on the top of the water, or hover just above it.

Some mornings, like today, the colours of what we can see are saturated.

Other mornings, it seems that only a whiff of colour has touched the sky-sea scape.

Because our house is up on the hillside, we are rarely dampened by the fog. Because we are not caught up in the fog, we can appreciate its variegated patterns without feeling its intensity in our home and our bones.

Ever-changing view. This, for me, is the pleasure of living in Smith's Cove.